Finding Hope
by rycbar15
Summary: When a body is found outside the local bar where Hope sings, She has no idea that she is the reason for the stranger's death. Will the strange but interesting Sherlock Holmes figure this out in time? Or is Hope in deep trouble?
1. A Murder In The Night

Robert Simmons was an ordinary man, half drunk, walking from home from the local bar Sparrows Drink and Dine. He couldn't have heard the footsteps behind him, following him to his death. Why he was attacked was a question that would never be answered for him.

As the attacker fatally stabbed this young man in the back, all Robert could think as he realized what was happening was, Why? The murderer turned Robert over so his back was to the ground. The life drained from him as he voiced his last question.

His attacker towered over him overjoyed with this cruel deed. "Why? You should have just left the girl alone."

The meaning of this was lost on Robert Simmons.

A young girl with stunning looks and long dark brown hair, walked out of the bar Robert had previously spent the night in. The murderer unseen in the darkness of night fled.

At first she didn't notice anything amiss as she trudged along admiring the still quiet summer night. In the darkness she almost tripped over the body of the dead man.

She was stepping tenderly down the street, her sneakers tied around her neck by the laces, when she stepped into a drying substance. At first she thought it could be alcohol spilt by some drunk fool. On further inspection though she noticed it not to be. That was when she stepped on the body.

Her scream echoed throughout the street, she held it together long enough to run into the bar and call the police. What the girl couldn't possibly have known? She was the reason for this horrid murder.

—-—

Welcome to my first ever story published on Fanfiction and its a Sherlock/OC

I will be posting with or without reviews but they will help. Sorry this is short. It is a sort of intro. Happy reading guys.

- L


	2. Nervousness And Missed Calls

The police had arrived shortly before but now Hope sat alone surrounded by darkness, she shifted uncomfortably on the street curb with a yawn. Why did these sorts of things happen to her? She wondered to herself. First her cruel landlord had kicked her out of her home for one missed payment, and now a man had turned up dead and she was the one who found him. An average person would have been in shock in this situation. Not Hope. No she was more focused on not throwing up at the chance she would have to talk to a man to explain what had happened.

"Miss Dawson?" The graying detective she had spotted earlier came up from behind her and stated, causing the girl to jump, "I was wondering if I could ask you some questions?"

Hope nodded to the man, and tried to calm her now violently shaking hands. Why couldn't the Detective be a woman? That would have made it a whole lot easier. Of course her annoying phobia had to get in the way of her life yet again. She tried to calm herself, sitting up straighter in an attempt not to look frightened while talking to the man. She had nothing to hide.

"My name is Detective Inspector Lestrade, and I was wondering if you could tell me what you were doing in the area?" He tried to suppress a yawn, but seeing this just caused Hope to relax. He was just a normal bloke, she thought to herself, he wasn't going to hurt her.

"I was at the pub around the corner, I sing there every second night" As she was talking she regained more control over herself and her hands slowly diminished in their shaking.

Lestrade nodded taking out a notepad ready to write down anything helpful, "Did you know the man?"

Hope thought about this. After about a minute of searching her recent memories she found the one she was looking for.

Robert had appeared a few days ago, and he would watch intently as Hope sang. She could also remember clearly him hitting on her that night, insisting that she go out with him. It had taken three of the regular customers and the bar owner Jack to get him to leave her alone and go.

You see although Hope had trouble even standing straight looking men in the eye, she still managed to sing for a few meals at the local pub. If she knew a man well enough she could hold her stomach around them, could even sing about broken hearts and finding love in front of them and if that man was in a crowd of people she may not see again she would sing happily and easily without having to worry about her slight phobia of men. Although the men didn't come for the girly lyrics. Hope's looks were stunning even Lestrade couldn't help but marvel at her beauty but of course only briefly, he did have a job to do.

"He started coming to the bar maybe five days ago. He seemed a bit drunk last night. He asked me out and wouldn't take no for an answer. That is until Jack, the owner of the bar kicked him out." Hope said this with a touch of sadness, that poor man had his whole life ahead of him, even if he did scare her half to death.

Lestrade looked up feeling uncomfortable, all he wanted was to go home back to his warm bed, "When was this?" He asked.

"It must have been ten minutes before he was murdered" she thought out loud and froze, that was a incredibly small time period, if she had left earlier she wondered if it could have been her. "Do you have any idea what happened?" She asked, her feet started to hurt from not moving for a long period of time and a lack of shoes, she silently hoped that the police would let her leave without asking her current address, which was nonexistent, she just wanted to leave so she could recover her backpack then head to her usual sleeping place before someone else took it.

"I can't really let out much info; it looks like an average mugging and murder. If you leave us a way to contact you, you can go once the bar owner backs up your alibi.

A few minutes later and after a run in with a particularly flirty cop, she managed to get away. She glanced at the piece of paper the slightly cute young police man had scribbled his name and number on, before sighing and tossing it into the gutter. The fact she was trying to talk to men without breaking down, or running, didn't mean she was ready to go out on a date. Which was the reason for the negative replies to the handsome man's nice although persistent question.

Maybe there was no hope; as ironic as that sounded. She seemed stuck with this slight phobia of men indefinitely.

She grabbed her backpack which was filled with her only possessions; her laptop, charger and phone that Jack sometimes let her charge, a few sets of clothes and a brush. Sighing, she headed off down a sheltered alley that had yet to hold another human in the whole time she had stayed there. If she had looked back she would have seen a familiar man, and she would have also noticed the note gone.

A cell phone rang somewhere in the house, and John looked up from his laptop, interrupted in his writing of their recently solved case. He was still debating the name. A secret organization had been targeting people with the use of their own radio station, free advertising for assassins or some crazy murderer to take up. Needless to say Sherlock was bored already, the lack of a case over the last day would no doubt drive him to craziness eventually there seemed to be no hope. The phone rang again. John realized the noise was coming from Sherlock's coat pocket in the kitchen where Sherlock was experimenting on a toe, retrieved from one of the recent murders he had solved.

"Are you going to get that?" John questioned while turning back to his computer playing with a pen on his desk.

"Is it distracting you from your blog?" Sherlock replied, not turning away from his experiment.

"Uh, yes" John looked at the words on the screen having trouble finishing his entry, and with the mood Sherlock was in there was next to no way he would get through it.

"Good" Sherlock stated as his phone rang again. John grunted in annoyance, and stood up from his seat in the living room to grab Sherlock's phone from the Detective's Pocket.

"It's Lestrade. Seven messages, and three missed calls." John scrolled down to the first of the messages.

"Sherlock.." John started, but Sherlock interrupted, "Yes I know a man was murdered early this morning. Nothing particularly interesting. Why Lestrade thinks I would jump at the mention I have no idea."

"Sherlock a policeman working this morning was murdered in the same way at the crime scene. They are guessing by the same person."

Sherlock looked up from his work, suddenly looking forward to a somewhat easy looking murder case. A Policeman killed while working on a closed crime scene? Maybe it could occupy him from his impending boredom.

Well There is chapter one, I have no idea if it's particularly exciting or interesting, I hope I got Sherlock's character somewhat. Tell me what you think. What should i change?

Thank you to StTudnoBright For reviewing you are awesome!

-L


	3. Introductions And Cliffhangers

When Hope's mother picked her daughter's name, she never could have realized how the irony would come back at Hope. If she could see her daughter now she would be disappointed to say the least, her little bundle of Hope had become a homeless 27 year old, whose phobia terrified her of job interviews, leaving her to work in a bar for hardly any money that payed her mostly in meals and wifi.

All things considered Hope was having a bad day, she had suffered an early start at 8am caused by police sirens which left her with three hours of sleep. On top of that some old lady had come down her alley the night before and found her bag full of her possessions, she did manage to catch up with the woman and get some of her stuff back, but not without getting a cut just under her eye, which was still quite sore, to show for it. Although she had been warm thanks to her thermal blankets hidden behind a dumpster, she knew that her living space would need to be changed, as summer wouldn't last forever. That morning she had also woken up with a aching neck from sleeping sitting up, she was feeling incredibly down and was left with thoughts of her dead mother, very cheerful indeed. She stood uncomfortably playing with her mother's engagement ring, all she had left of her. A notion quickly arose in her head of selling the ring, but was quickly dismissed as she could never part with such a beautiful reminder of her mother even if it was worth a lot of money. She desperately craved food, and Jack the owner of Sparrows Pub was a old friend of her's from high school, he always fed her or gave her enough money to live. As long as she sang in exchange for it. At the moment though he had to go, unknowingly making Hope wait for the sustenance she so urgently needed.

As she stood outside the pub, searching her mind for something else to think about besides her hunger, she spotted two men walking down the street with the detective from the night before. She had heard of another murder sometime that morning, but Hope was too nervous to approach the men who had been talking about it as they had walked by. Something about these men caused her to stare at these them as they walked with Lestrade. One man was short compared to the other, but he was probably an average height. Hope also noticed his stance was interesting, like he was ready for action. She could easily see this man with a gun, but he also seemed kind.

What really interested Hope was the tall dark haired man with a pale complexion. He seemed to have a great intelligence, observing everything, and she wondered if he was a detective, but the look on Lestrade's face indicated otherwise. Possibly he could've been a private detective. His face did seem familiar. Though she doubted she had seen him let alone talked to him anywhere before. She would have remembered that, as his demeanor seemed terrifying to her.

Half an hour before Hope had first seen them, Sherlock and John had arrived on the scene of this latest crime much to the relief Of Lestrade and the disgust of his co workers.

In an instant Sherlock had knelt by the newest body and analyzed it thoroughly.

"Got anything?" Lestrade asked waiting for Sherlock's deduction with arms crossed.

Sherlock looked up, making sure his company would hear his whole deduction.

"Young man, aged about 30, single judging from his left hand, there is a tan line where there used to be a ring so not that recently single. He has an ink mark on his left hand, probably from a scribbled note torn from his notebook. The victim didn't see the simpleton who attacked him until the last minute judging by the stab wound in the back and the shocked look on his face. The murderer turned him over to talk to him but did catch him from surprise, so the person we want is quick and quiet on his feet. There is a shoe sized mark on the man's left leg, he probably angered the murderer resulting in this. You mentioned another man. Was he killed in the same way?" Sherlock finished his deduction and swept his eyes over the surrounding area to see if he had missed anything. Something he doubted greatly, as this man was as easy to read as any other normal victim.

Lestrade took a minute to let these words process in his mind. "Exact same cause of death, the other man was turned over as well. We are trying to find some connection between the two but there isn't much. He was supposed to be scouting the area."

"I will have to see the other body. It's at Bart's already I'm assuming."

Now they were walking down the street to the bar, Sherlock was about to leave for bart's, sure that there must be some connection between the two murders. Lestrade was secretly hoping the bar would be open at 10 am in the morning. And John? Well he had spotted a very pretty girl outside the bar staring at them, though it didn't seem as if Sherlock had spotted her, which was quite strange. The girl was beautiful and she seemed to force out a smile before walking around the corner. Discouraged by this he walked faster to catch up with Sherlock as he had fallen behind when he had spotted the girl, at the same time he saw Lestrade leaving.

"So uh, what now?" John said while looking around for the girl again.

"Are you alright John? You seem distracted." Sherlock glanced around looking for something that would distract his friend, but there wasn't anything particularly interesting in the general area.

"What? No. Nothing's distracting me." He resolved to forget the girl and focus on the case.

"Fine. Look around for any clues I don't need you at the morgue." With that Sherlock flagged down a cab and left, leaving no chance of John replying.

John looked around with no notion of where to start.

So he headed around the corner unconsciously looking for that girl, and instead he walked right into her knocking her over.

"My goodness. I'm so sorry." He rushed to help her up. He noticed a cut just under her eye and although it didn't seem fresh he still asked with concern "I didn't do that, did I?"

"Oh no, y-you're fine" She smiled kindly, mustering up the courage to start a conversation with him. She had been working on that but hadn't really started a conversation before.

"My name is Hope." Holding out a shaky hand she secretly praised herself for not becoming a bumbling fool or excusing herself rudely.

"John. Nice to meet you." He liked this girl although she seemed extremely shy.

"So what were you and your friend doing in the area?" She asked trying not to sound nosy.

John was quite surprised by this, as he had seen her staring at them but people didn't usually admit they were. "I was about to ask you a similar question."

She shrugged in answer not wanting to explain anything about her rubbishy life.

"My friend and I have been investigating a murder in the area. You don't know anything about it do you?"

Another smile spread across her face "I knew he was a detective!" Hope also knew she sounded weird but she didn't care. At any rate she was probably still in shock from the night before. "I told the cops last night all I know, which isn't much."

John thought about this, then asked, "Last night?"

Hope started putting her long hair in a ponytail trying to distract herself since her hands were shaking again, probably because of the reminder of the dead man. "I found the body last night; I heard there was another murder. What happened?"

"I don't think I can tell you, but you found the body?" Hope then became extremely uncomfortable, a image of the mans still body reawakening in her mind.

"I-I don't feel very well, but it was nice talking to you. Here," Hope passed John a piece of paper after she scribbled her number on it,"If you need any more info just ring"

And then she was gone, John straightened up and looked at her rushed writing. She had put her whole name Hope Dawson. He recalled a Miss Dawson finding the body.

Shaking his head he pocketed the note and headed the way she had gone, looking for any clues but still unsure as to where to look. His mind was brimming with thoughts, about the new, strange, but beautiful girl he had just met, and of course annoyance at Sherlock's unclear task set out of him.

That was when he spotted a note that had been thrown down a small off street, so he headed down it and picked it up.

"Darius Thomas Call anytime," The note read, with a number following the writing.

It occurred to John that this was like a note someone might give to a girl or somebody they wanted to go out with, although clearly the girl must not have wanted to go out with... Darius Thomas was the dead policeman's name. John thought about this for a second, and recalled Sherlock mentioned the man scribbling and ripping a note out of his notebook. Obviously he had found the missing page.

Hope walked aimlessly around feeling a bit worried; she was all alone with a murderer on the loose. She kept glancing behind her, looking for someone that looked like a killer. Even if she wasn't sure what a killer looked like.

She glanced down a side street and stopped, there was John the man from before unknowingly about to be stabbed by a masked man. Hoping she would reach him in time she ran not knowing what she could possibly do. Her mouth wouldn't respond when her brain told her to warn him.

**Whaha there is my attempt at a cliffhanger, hope you liked it. No Sherlock meeting her yet... sorry. Please review about his deduction, I really want to know what you think. School awaits now. Review for more... words. Also I noticed I named the Bar Sparrows, and the owner Jack. This was not intentional at all just a coincidence. Surprised even myself. Anyways...  
**

**Thank you so much Rainie Skyes, CaptainXena-Mation, StTudnoBright, and Ali for reviewing! You guys are awesome!**


	4. Hello Sherlock

Hope ran down the side street not noticing the glass that cut into her feet. "Stop!" She yelled her voice finally fulfilling its job. At the sound of her voice the masked man glanced at her and froze, if he hadn't had the mask on she would have realized he had frozen in shock, Hope knew she needed to stop him so she jumped on his back, wrapping her arms around the man's neck surprising and slightly choking him.

John was also alerted by Hope's yell, when he turned toward the sound he saw Hope jumping onto a man's back. He also realized this man had been about to kill him. He saw the knife and jumped into action knocking the weapon that was supposed to be in his back out of the attackers hand, a loud clang was heard as it hit the pavement loudly. Before he could do anything else, Hope was flipped off the man's back with a good deal of strength. She flew back and hit a nearby fence, which distracted John enough so that the attacker could get away. John began to chase him, but when he heard Hope groan and try to stand up, his physician side caused him to stop in his tracks and go to help the girl who had saved his life.

"Are you alright?" He asked as he grabbed her arm and helped her stand.

"I-I'm fine, we have to catch-" Whatever adrenaline that had helped her after standing and cutting herself on the glass had worn off rather quickly. Pain radiated through her feet and a dull pain started in her head from hitting the fence with such force. She quickly sat down causing John to think something had happened to her when she hit the fence. In fact, though, she was checking her feet, and painfully pulling bits of glass from them.

"How did you do that?" He asked in amazement as he crouched down and examined the wounds, "At least the cuts aren't too deep." He stood up and straightened, holding out his hand to Hope, "My flat's not far from here, I'm a doctor I can help you."

Hope wordlessly took his hand and stood up, before muttering a quick OK. She wasn't sure why, but she followed him, not concerned about this stranger hurting her at all, John tried to get her to speak but she was too out of it to do anything but nod in response. He made sure she didn't have a concussion a few minutes into the walk by checking her pupils and asking if she had a headache, all the usual things, in fact there was nothing physically wrong with her other then the cuts on her feet.

"Are you sure you are OK?" He asked for what must have been the fifth time, expecting another nod or grunt in response.

"I-I am, Its been a long day" She finally answered. It had only taken them a five minute walk to get to the door of 221b, the flat loomed over Hope and she debated within herself whether she should go in, until pain and tiredness won over, and she stepped inside. Changing her life seemingly forever.

"Why don't you clean your feet in the bathroom, and I will get some gauze from upstairs" John kindly said after losing the battle to clean her feet himself, although he had no idea why Hope didn't want him touching her feet, he passed it off as her being extremely shy. Hope nodded, and headed into the strangely chemical filled bathroom, she heard John mutter something about the hazardous materials being his flatmates before he reached the top of the stairs.

She got to work carefully cleaning her cuts, wincing slightly at the discomfort. She made sure to clean up any mess she made, not wanting to be a burden. Meanwhile John realized that his last bit of gauze had been used during their last case. He cursed himself for being so careless, as forgetting to buy more gauze wasn't like him. He ran down the stairs to Mrs Hudson's to check there, but she didn't have any either. As he left Mrs Hudson's, he bumped into Sherlock, who was making his way up the stairs.

"Sherlock, there's this girl upstairs called Hope, and she had a bit of an accident with some glass. I'll explain later, but I just need to pop out and get some gauze" John said quickly, he didn't want to make the girl wait a unnecessary amount of time, but he also didn't want to leave her too long with his flatmate. Meanwhile Sherlock didn't hear much except for girl, and gauze.

Hope walked out of the bathroom trying not to step on anything, carefully looking out for any spills from chemicals or who knows what else on the floor. At the same time Sherlock walked into the room and sat graciously in his chair. Noticing Hope but not attempting to strike up conversation with her.

"Oh, uh H-Hello, wheres John?" Shocked by the sudden appearance of the man she had seen with John not that long ago, and slightly nervous to have to talk to him, she forced out a smile.

"He went out. Muttered something about gauze. Who are you?" He asked coolly, picking up a nearby newspaper.

"I'm Hope. And you are?" Sherlock glanced up and observed how she stood, what her circumstances were. Likewise Hope was also observing him but not as much to a degree as Sherlock was. Whereas he saw her life. She saw a man, the one thing that usually scared her more then anything else.

"What a interesting name for someone in your situation. Do you like this name? Hope?" Sherlock wasn't really interested in her, but he was bored as his morning at the morgue had not struck up any new information on the new case.

"My situation?" Hope was nervous. Her hands were shaking, she had lost her breath and her stomach was doing flips, but she wasn't scared of him. Not like her phobia usually entailed. In fact neither this man or John had scared her at all. Sure, she was nervous, but these two men were the only ones she had ever come across who didn't make her sick with fear. She came closer, standing next to a chair opposite him and resting her hand on it.

"Your clothes are falling to pieces. In a desperate need of a wash. In fact all your clothing needs to be replaced, even your shoes. Also your hair gives you away. You keep running your fingers through your hair, as if you don't have a hairbrush. Your roots certainly have grown out, judging by the blonde near the end. On top of all that you are extremely skinny. Something that by the way you look is not by choice. Your situation is easy. You are homeless." Sherlock said in his usual cold and bored manner. He was quite intrigued at this girl's confidence in striking up a conversation with him, even slightly interested as she had willingly stepped closer to him despite shaking hands and how she was obviously very nervous to be in his presence. "Talking with me makes you nervous. Why? Shy? No. You spoke with John. But he's easy to talk to. Afraid of me? No. You are here willingly. Well then. Its either me personally or men in general. So clearly you are either attracted to me, or you suffer from some form of Androphobia. Ah. Yes, I see. If that is the case, how are you doing this? A woman with that kind of phobia shouldn't even be able to speak to me, let alone go voluntarily to a strangers home."

"That was amazing, how do you do that?" Hope was thoroughly impressed. Never did she think someone could just know her by a single glance. Even if he wrongly thought that she was attracted to him. She smiled happily at him, not caring that he knew so much about her. The life she hated wasn't a secret from anyone. It was just that nobody had even cared to bother knowing about it. "Being able to just look at someone and know all about them. I wish I could do that."

Sherlock raised his eyebrows slightly. Who was this person? She seemed to have completely forgotten about her phobia. Her hands had stopped their shaking, she was smiling a real genuine smile, and had casually sat down in John's chair.

"To tell the truth I hate my name, and there are no good nicknames really. Anyway you didn't tell me your name. If you tell me what it is, I will tell you why I'm here." Hope leaned back, even though she didn't know why she felt so comfortable in talking to the new man, she quite enjoyed being able to talk to someone, to try and make friends.

"Sherlock." He stated as he stared at her uncertainly.

"Sherlock Holmes? The great consulting detective? From the papers? You have a fascinating resume, I knew I had seen you before. " Hope said playfully as she rested one of her feet on her knee, checking the cuts again making sure it was clean. Before Sherlock could reply John walked through the door.

"Oh I see you've met Sherlock. He hasn't been a jerk has he?" John looked at the girl and noticed she appeared happy, obviously over her shock, and wrongly came to the conclusion that she hadn't been deduced yet. He handed her the gauze and she started to wrap some around her foot with the most cuts.

"Yeah, he's been the perfect host." Hope said with a smile in Sherlock's direction, which caught him off guard, as all he had done was deduce her life, and she was perfectly happy. Who was this strange girl really?

"Did she tell you what she did Sherlock? She saved my life. This bloke was about to stab while I was looking for clues down this little side street. Hope jumped on the man's back and stopped him." John grinned at Hope and went into the kitchen popping the kettle on and grabbing some biscuits he had bought out of a shopping bag.

"Obviously." Sherlock muttered, regarding the fact that John was very much alive, "You really shouldn't walk around barefoot Hope. Unless you like cutting your feet on glass."

Hope shrugged her shoulders. She wouldn't be surprised if he knew her love of avoiding shoes. As she finished off putting on the last of the gauze, John made her a cup of tea, and she was comfortably drinking it on their couch when the reason for John being down the side street finally came up.

"Did you find any clues?" Sherlock asked already having spotted a piece of paper shoved in John's pocket.

"What? Oh yes, yes I did, here." He placed the note next to Sherlock before inquiring if Hope needed anything.

"Darius Thomas Call anytime..." Sherlock read out loud for no particular reason except to see if John had any amusing ideas. To his slight amusement Hope spoke up, "What did you say?" She said worriedly.

"It reads Darius Thomas Call anytim-" The note was snatched from Sherlock. He looked up at Hope to see she had gone pale.

"What does this have to do with your case?" Hope asked while handing the note back.

"Darius Thomas was the policeman who was murdered at a crime scene last night."

Hope froze trying to ignore the coincidence that had developed before her. "That note was mine, he gave it to me when I left the crime scene. I threw it away in the dark last night because I was never going to use it."

Sherlock thought about this. "And?" He inquired.

"The other man who was murdered earlier that night, he hit on me as well, and died at least ten minutes later. Now this Mark guy gives me his number and is murdered at a crime scene. On top of that someone tries to kill John moments after he knocks me over and talks to me. That can't be a coincidence. What is going on?"

Sherlock smiled. This case just got a whole lot more interesting.

**Hello Lovely readers, I hope (no pun intended) you enjoyed this painfully awkward chapter (long story, it involves a overheating computer and three days of annoyance) Thank you to _StTudnoBright, CaptainXena-Mation_, and lastly but not at all least _Raine Skyes_ (My extremely awesome friend who is helping me make this awesome story a whole lot better) For Reviewing and making me keep writing. Also Thanks to my four other followers. So Review for more, etc. etc.**

**L**


	5. Lost Something?

Hope wrote rapidly, searching her mind for all she could remember from last night at the pub. Sherlock wanted her to write down all the names of the people from the pub who had rushed to her assistance when Robert hadn't taken no for an answer.

"Can't you write any quicker?" Sherlock muttered impatiently, even though she was going as fast as she could. When she passed the list to him, he couldn't help but notice how neat her writing was. Even at the incredible speed she had written, not one line was unreadable or messy. He cataloged this ability to write neatly under pressure as a part of her back story, which even now he was still only slightly interested in uncovering. "Are these all the men that helped you?"

"No. I purposely left one out just to annoy you." She said sarcastically before adding, "Of course that's all of them. Why would I leave something out that could stop us from catching this killer?"

Sherlock stared at her a second longer than he meant to, before looking at the list again. Hope had not only included their names, but also a general description of each man. She had even managed to remember what some of their jobs were, since the suspects loved talking about themselves when they were drunk.

"You are very... Thorough." He said, making John look up from the kitchen in shock, unsure if that was a compliment or not.

"I thought you might want to know all the details. It could help show you who would most likely be the murderer." Hope smiled happily at him, and went to help John in the kitchen, where he was heating some ready to eat meals for all of them. She had argued against him feeding her, but unlike the gauze argument, she had lost this one.

She couldn't get over how comfortable she felt in their flat. Maybe that was because she didn't have her own home, or simply because these men were kind to her. John seemed to have decided that she was more like a sister then a potential girlfriend, and Sherlock just amused her. She felt she could talk freely to them. They were unlike any men she had seen before, but that wasn't saying much. Her whole life she had been surrounded by horrible violent men, or men who wanted something from her. So hanging around these interesting, although strange, two men, was relaxing.

"Which one could it be?" Sherlock asked himself, with no intention of hearing a answer from Hope and John. He analyzed the list one more time before placing it on the desk in the living room. "Could any of them possibly be attracted to you?"

Hope and John shared a look, as they both were fairly certain that maybe all of the men were most likely attracted to her. Hope suspected this because of past experiences with these men. No matter how much she wished that they didn't like her like that, she couldn't deny the evidence of her eyes when she was around them. Whereas John was quite certain of this because in his opinion it would be highly unlikely for a straight man not to be attracted to her.

"Possibly." Hope turned to face Sherlock, a light blush coming to her face, she leant against the kitchen bench so John could get past, although she didn't want to admit it, she continued by saying, "Maybe more like all of them."

888888

"You don't eat during a case at all?" Hope pondered this. Her sore feet tucked underneath her as she sat on their couch, "On purpose? That's... really something. Well, I'll eat it if you don't want it."

Hope stood from the couch grabbing Sherlock's Chicken Casserole, before returning to the couch and placing it on top of her already finished bowl.

"What? No insisting that I eat it?" Sherlock asked as she ate. He didn't know why, but Hope confused him, which was a unusual feeling for the detective. Sherlock had found out only moments before that she was a singer. In a pub. Something that a girl with Androphobia would normally run away from. But, Instead, Hope talked of her job as if she loved singing in front of complete strangers. And further, to Sherlock's mild astonishment, most of these strangers were men.

"Well what would be the point of that? I'm not going to insist you do something you don't want to. Besides I'm really hungry." She turned to John who didn't know what to say on the matter. "Thank you John but I must have out stayed my welcome by now. I'll pop in tomorrow to see if you need help with anything in the case. Which," She added playfully "I'm sure you won't."

Hope said her goodbyes and finished the last of her food, announcing that she needed to be at Sparrows in ten minutes.

"You're going to follow her, aren't you?" John asked from his chair as he heard the door close.

"And why would you think that?" Sherlock replied as he put on his scarf, preparing to head out the door.

"Because you had your coat on before she even had her foot on the last step on the stair case."

"Yes. I am." With that parting shot, Sherlock left, swiftly walking down the stairs and out the door, noting that Hope hadn't walked that far from 221b.

He followed her down the street and around the corner. He thought it strange that she didn't look behind herself, not even once, especially with the threat of a murderer around. Sherlock also found it odd that she didn't seem to be worried about her surroundings. As he watched she crossed another street, and after a additional five minutes of walking, she turned down another corner.

When he turned the corner to follow her, Sherlock was surprised to find she was nowhere to be seen, and in his confusion, he walked forward a bit, looking around as he did so. Surely she hadn't been snatched from the streets under his watch?

"Lost something?" Hope asked playfully from behind him, a hand on her hip, she laughed which quickly turned into a yawn, not from boredom but from pure exhaustion. He turned to face her and frowned.

"You didn't even look back once." He said, surprising himself, Why did he feel worry for this girl he had just met? As he asked himself this, he quickly dismissed the question as annoyance at being beaten by her. "You showed no signs of being aware of your surroundings. How did you know I was following you?"

"Uh.. Maybe I'm a super genius? Or maybe I knew you would follow me from the beginning." He stared at her coldly, causing Hope to feel slightly uncomfortable. "Or maybe I saw you in the reflection of a parked car. You know, if you wanted to look out for me you could've just asked."

"I did not want to 'look out for you' I merely thought that if you are the reason for these murders. The murderer might want to stay close to you, in order to watch your every move. Perhaps coming to the pub daily. I was not concerned about you. I am only interested in solving this case."

"I think you protest too much." Hope said with a wink, before continuing the walk to Sparrows Pub. "That was probably the most you have spoken to me. Other then when we had the story of my life conversation."

"Deduction" Sherlock corrected falling in step next to her.

"OK. Deduction." They walked in silence for a few minutes before Hope added, "If this man is targeting people who show an interest in me, won't you following me around... I don't know, maybe make him try to kill you?"

"That is a most likely scenario." Sherlock agreed, before Hope stopped two buildings away from Sparrows causing Sherlock to mimic this action.

"But I don't want you to be killed. Can't you... I don't know, maybe keep a distance then? Pretend you don't know me?" Hope asked worriedly. She didn't know if she could live with herself if another man was murdered because of some psycho's interest in her.

Who are you Hope?" You suffer from Androphobia. But you work in a pub. Usually only holding men. Yet you are able to sing in front of them without any apparent problem. Further you don't seem the least bit frightened of me. What are you?"

Hope breathed out looking off into the distance, frowning as she tried to think of something to explain her.

"I'm... Complicated." She muttered, barely whispering, before opening the door to enter Sparrows, leaving Sherlock Holmes outside with his unanswered questions to keep him company.

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**Do you like it? Uh... I mean. Here's the next chapter. There has been major editing done on every chapter. (even this one) So if you want to reread the story in a nicer easier way go back and read it if you want. Also the deduction in the last chapter has been... changed. Anyway thank you to all of my reviewers, followers and favoriter... Anyways Review! Tell me what you think! Tell me what you want to see in the story!**

**Also major thanks to Rainie Skyes who has helped me edit every chapter. You are awesome.**

**See ya later Sherlockians!**

**- L**


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